Back Against The Wall (You Won't Take Me Outside) [2/?] [Sirens]
Title: BATW (YWTMO) - Chapter Two: The Tour
Summary: A Sirens High School AU.
Rating: R (for swearing only)
Pairing: Eventual Ashley/Stuart. (Implied Angie/Stuart in this part.)
Words & Warnings: ~3500 |
Disclaimer: Sirens is very much Not Mine.
Notes: In which Rachid is given a brief tour, Ash is momentarily jealous, Stuart is Stuart and we meet some more teachers.
Also @ AO3
They find Rachid hanging around the entrance of the Sixth Form common room at the beginning of break. It doesn’t surprise Ash that he’s on his own - the Classics lot are clique-ey as fuck and take a while to warm up to new students.
“The Tour?” Stuart asks as they approach, waving when Rachid spots them.
“The Tour,” Ash nods.
The Tour doesn’t really deserve the capital letter but has become a tradition. Ever since Stuart went out of his way to befriend Ash he’d become the go-to for ‘new student liaison’ despite being regularly described as a ‘cocky prick’ by most of his teachers. What baffles them most of all, though, is that Stuart seems to actually like doing it. This is because they don’t know about the Tour - which pretty much boils down to fifteen minutes in which Stuart corrupts the new student.
“Alright,” Rachid says as the join them, his mouth splitting into a relieved smile. Ash and Stuart nod in response, Stuart turning his head as if looking for someone. “Hey, you were right about Porteous, man, guy’s a total bore.”
“He’s not that bad once you get him going,” Ash says, trying to not look for whoever Stuart’s trying to spot too obviously. “Get him started on a tangent and you’ll see what I mean.”
“Let’s go then,” Stuart says, turning back to them and looking up at Rachid (it doesn’t always register that Stuart is shorter than Ash, he takes up so much space in Ash’s head). “You need the Tour.”
“The Tour?” Rachid asks, falling in beside Ash as Stuart heads down the stairs. “Like - where my classes are?”
“Oh, much more important things than that,” Stuart says dismissively. There’s too much intent about him for this to just be about the Tour. Ash desperately wants to know who Stuart’s looking for.
“I’d quite like to know where I’m going, but,” Rachid says, just loud enough for Ash to hear.
“Don’t worry,” Ash says, holding a hand out, “give us your timetable and I’ll point them out as we go.”
“Thanks,” Rachid passes a crumpled timetable over with a smile.
“The Tour starts here,” Stuart announces when they reach the main English corridor. He gestures to a plain brown door with English notices pinned up all over it.
“It’s a door,” Rachid says, turning his palms up and shrugging. “What do you -”
“Not just any door,” Ash says, pushing the door open to let a waft of fresh-smelling air drift out.
“Toilets,” Rachid states flatly, looking through the door. “Why -”
“Not just any toilets,” Stuart says, ducking under Ash’s arm (which shouldn’t make Ash’s heart spin in his chest). Ash nods Rachid through before him, leaning against the door when it falls shut.
“The only consistently clean toilets in the whole school,” Stuart continues, spreading his arms out to encompass the sparkling white room. “The English teachers complained for a year straight about the smell when we were in year 11. Because the school has a ‘reputation for excellence’ in Lit and Lang - they did something about it.”
“Only the English faculty and students know about them,” Ash says, folding his arms across his chest.
“So don’t tell anyone,” Stuart says, wearing a serious expression. Most people would’ve thought he was taking the piss - but Ash knows how deadly serious Stuart is about clean toilets.
“Good thing I’m an English student then, yeah?” Rachid asks, a smile splitting his face again.
“You think we would’ve shown you this if we didn’t already know?” Stuart asks, moving determinedly towards the door again. Ash steps aside and holds the door, executing a mock bow when Stuart looks at him as he goes past. The answering smile is a nice reward.
“Language is just down there,” Ash nods down the corridor as Stuart spins off in the opposite direction. “Looks like we’ve all got the same teacher.”
“Do you have all the same classes?” Rachid asks as Stuart leads them down another flight of stairs and turns sharply right.
“Not all,” Ash says, slightly defensive. “Three.”
“That’s -” Rachid starts but Stuart interrupts him before he has a chance to share his opinion.
“Because we have a plan, don’t we Ash?” Stuart falls back a little, his steps instantly syncing with Ash’s.
“Aye, we do,” Ash says, smiling. His right arm is brushing against Stuart’s left as they walk and it’s always like this on the first day back; feeling Stuart’s presence too keenly and feeling like something is fizzing just under his skin. He wishes he had the strength to pull away.
“What is it then?” Rachid asks when they walk on in silence.
“That’s for us to know and you to find out if we decide we like you enough,” Stuart says and Ash barely covers a laugh. It only encourages him. Stuart catches him and the fond smile, the one that makes Ash think he’d be content to stay like this forever, ripples across his features.
Ash likes to think of it as his smile because he’s never seen Stuart direct it at anyone else. Not even Maxine and Stuart’s been mates with her since first school.
“Stop two on the Tour,” Ash says, when they exit the seedy corridors that wrap around the PE department.
“It’s a courtyard,” Rachid says, looking about himself.
“And every Thursday lunchtime it’s where you come if you want to buy something, shall we say, not particularly legal,” Stuart says, kicking a booted foot against the cinderblock wall.
“What, drugs and stuff?” Rachid asks. Stuart shrugs.
“Pretty much anything you can think of, someone here’ll be able to get it,” Ash says. Rachid’s eyes go calculating.
“Porn?” he asks and Stuart laughs, bright and loud, doubling over slightly.
“Oh, my friend,” he says, clapping Rachid on the shoulder. “All the porn you could imagine.
“Don’t know,” Rachid says. “I can imagine a lot of porn.”
“More than that,” Ash says, meeting Stuart’s eyes and letting the corners of his mouth twitch up.
“That’s a lot of porn,” Rachid says, blinking. Stuart laughs again and moves back over to the door. This time he motions for Ash to go first and Ash impresses himself by not making a joke about Stuart wanting to check out his arse.
Then he worries that he should have, because he’s been making that joke nearly every time Stuart opens a door for him since they met, and Stuart might think he’s being weird if he doesn’t make it and -
“It’s alright if you find yourself looking at Ash’s arse, by the way,” Stuart says from behind him and Ash whirls about to find Rachid’s eyes going desperately wide. Stuart’s eyes are on Ash’s as he continues: “Pretty much everyone has at one time or another. It’s like it’s magnetic. Or hypnotic.”
“Stuart -” Ash says, low and warning. Something flickers across Stuart’s eyes before his mouth widens into the particular shit-eating grin that always makes Ash want to slap him.
“I weren’t, honest -” Rachid says, waving his arms about. Stuart scoffs.
“You were,” he says, still looking at Ash and, oh God, he thinks he’s helping, doesn’t he? Ash would kill Stuart if he didn’t know that would just end in Ash dying alone, surrounded by cats. “It’s alright, seriously, he’ll take it as a compliment.”
“You’re a prick, Stuart Bayldon,” Ash says and there’s enough venom in his voice to make Stuart understand he means it. Remorse crosses his face and that’s - that’s a new thing. It wrong-foots Ash spectacularly.
“Are you trying to say he’s gay?” Rachid asks, looking between them with bewilderment etched large on his face. “’Cos I didn’t think it were cool to out people.”
“It’s alright, Rachid,” Ash says, dragging his eyes away from Stuart’s at last. “I’m pretty openly out. No harm done. Well - unless you’re a bigot.”
“Are you a bigot, Rachid?” Stuart asks and there’s a depth of meaning to his tone - a tone that suggests he will break Rachid if he says the wrong thing right now. Ash’s heart skips a beat in his chest, like it always does.
“Um,” Rachid looks down at himself and raises his eyebrows. “Kinda hard to be when you look like this and, you know, eat halal.”
There’s a moment of silence while they take in the meaning of that statement and something about Stuart softens, only enough that Ash would notice, and the tension eases out of the air. As much as Ash appreciates Stuart’s weird brand of protectiveness he always prefers it when he doesn’t wield it like a weapon.
“Welcome to the edge of society,” Stuart says, turning away. “Come on, we’ll show you where you can smoke the stuff you buy from the dealers.”
Which is around the back of the canteen where the constant humming from the exhaust fan, plus the steam that pours out of it, covers up the hacking coughs of the kids who’ve been smoking twenty a day since they were ten.
Ash’s phone buzzes in his pocket when they’re half way across the school. Stuart’s name is on the display when he pulls it out and he looks up at Stuart’s back, two steps ahead of him. Stuart figured out how to text without looking within a few days of getting his first phone.
sorry, that was dick behaviour
yeah, it was Ash sends back, shaking his head. Stuart never apologies in front of other people. Thinks it weakens his reputation as the biggest prick in the school. Ash has never figured out why Stuart’s so obsessed with it.
make it up to you?
oh yeah? how?
got a copy of that gay surfer movie you were looking for. we could watch it after school?
Ash actually stops walking in surprise. Stuart has - he’s never given two shits about Ash’s sexuality (if he did he might have noticed the way Ash stares at him with hearts in his eyes all the time) but he’s never gone out of his way to have anything to do with it (beyond mocking Ash’s taste in men constantly) and he’s certainly never offered to watch anything with him.
(“They’re always so fucking depressing,” Stuart had said when he complained about Maxine forcing him to watch Brokeback Mountain once. That was before Ash and Stuart had met. “I get enough of that just existing. You let me know when you hear about a gay film that has a happy ending, mate, and I’ll watch the fuck out of it with you.”)
Ash had never thought Stuart would actually make good on his promise. Something hot and huge flares in his chest and he tries desperately to smother it. Hope has done enough damage to him before when it comes to Stuart, he can’t let it happen again.
“Oi, are you coming you ginger twat?” Stuart calls, now far enough ahead, with Rachid at his side, for Ash to have to jog to catch up.
Well. There goes that hot feeling. (No, that’s an absolute lie, because the problem with being in love is that you love someone because of their flaws not in spite of them and Stuart couldn’t be more flawed if he tried.)
“Fuck you, Stuart,” Ash says, under his breath, as he jogs to catch up.
“Stop number three,” Stuart says when Ash catches up, leading them around the corner and up the narrow gap that spits them out into the smoking zone. “Smoker’s corner. Ash will try to tell you he only smokes when he’s drinking. That is a lie.”
“Ha fucking ha,” Ash says, rolling his eyes and resisting the desperate urge to light up now that they’re here. He nods at Mr Fry, the Lit teacher he and Stuart had shared at GCSE (and Stuart still has), while he pulls his phone out to reply.
yeah, why not. i’ve got nothing else on Ash looks up to see if Stuart’s got his reply and his heart sinks a little. Stuart’s talking to Angie, who he’d befriended at the last party of the summer holidays, and Ash really doesn’t want to think about it. Angie’s nice and all, a bit obsessed with the environment, but she’s not right for Stuart. Ash just knows it.
“Ah, Mr Greenwick,” Mr Fry says, stubbing his cigarette out on the wall. “I take it this is the new student?”
“Rachid,” Rachid says, staring up at all 6’4 of the giant English teacher. Mr Fry is stately and impressive and Ash had always enjoyed his class, the man’s love for the written word was infectious. He’s Stuart’s favourite teacher after Dr Goldacre.
“I believe you’ll be joining Mr Greenwick and Mr Bayldon in my colleague’s English Language class,” Mr Fry says, spreading his hands expansively. “I believe you’ll find it rather extraordinary. Mr Ince is perhaps the angriest man I’ve ever met.”
“Um, sure,” Rachid says uncertainly. Ash hides his smile behind his hand.
“Keep this to yourself, Greenwick,” Mr Fry turns his eyes on Ash. He spent the first ten years of his teaching career at one of the ridiculous public schools down South and has never shaken some the habits he picked up. “Mr Laurie tells me he wants the Year 13s to reinterpret Midsummer’s this year.”
“Really?” Ash asks, forgetting for a moment anything other than the prospect of performing in one of his favourite plays.
“M’Coll generally doesn’t lie to me,” Mr Fry says, smiling. There’s a shade to it that Ash recognises, sees on himself in reflective surfaces that catch him smiling at Stuart, and for a moment his heart squeezes for Mr Fry. “I think you’d make an excellent Puck. What do you say, Bayldon?”
Stuart has appeared at Ash’s side, apparently done with his approach to Angie, and Ash looks across to find Stuart staring at him. Stuart ruffles his hair into curled spikes and Ash tries to duck away, embarrassed by Stuart doing this in front of other people. Stuart flashes a smile.
“There’s definitely something Puckish about him, sir,” Stuart says, nodding to Mr Fry.
“Well, best be off,” Mr Fry says, clapping his hands together. “If no-one tells on me, I’ll tell on no-one. See you this afternoon, Bayldon.”
The rest of the smokers wave to him as slides through the narrow gap, pulling his generous stomach in even as it strains against his waistcoat, and Stuart follows him, Ash and Rachid trailing behind him.
“Last stop on the Tour up next,” Stuart says, walking backwards for a moment when they extricate themselves from the alley. “Possibly the most important.”
“Yeah?” Rachid raises his eyebrows. “More important than toilets, you mean?”
“Sarcasm? Already?” Stuart asks, exchanging a smile with Ash. “Kids grow up so fast these days.”
Rachid laughs at this and Stuart looks pleasantly surprised. He falls back into step with Ash as Ash’s phone buzzes in his pocket. Ash checks it while Stuart explains to Rachid why he’s taking both Lit and Lang (Ash’s heard it so many times before he thinks he could repeat Stuart’s reasons verbatim).
cool. might as well go straight from school. this better have the happy ending you promised me (Later, when Ash examines every detail of the day, he will swear that his heart stopped at this. He'll be embarrassed for himself.)
“So,” Ash says, before that warm hope can roll up on him again. “Angie?”
“Yeah, maybe,” Stuart says, shrugging. “She seems interested.”
“Good,” Ash says, swallowing down his usual irrational reaction to any girl Stuart fancies. “That’s good.”
“You alright?” Stuart asks, tilting his head and raising an eyebrow. Ash shakes himself and forces as natural a smile as he can.
“Just had a horrible image of you with Angie,” he says, shuddering. “Not a pretty thought.”
Stuart pulls a face and Ash laughs, ducking his head. Now he does have that image in his mind. As usual, though, it’s focused entirely on what he half-fantasises Stuart might look like. It’s a more enjoyable thought that he ever intends to let on.
They curve around the school to the science building, rather newer than the rest of the school with solar panels on the roof and everything, and over to the crumbling piece of wall that’s all that’s left of the previous science building.
“This is where you come at lunchtime,” Stuart says. “Think you can remember the route?”
“It’s not exactly rocket surgery,” Rachid says, rolling his eyes at Stuart.
The bell for the end of break rings before Stuart can respond.
“Come on then, Mr Surgeon,” Stuart says, slapping Rachid on the arm. “We better get you to your next class.”
“Physics,” Ash offers when Stuart looks a question at him. “Prof Cox.”
“Oh, fun,” Stuart says, eyes sparking with interest. “It’s been a while since we said hello.”
Rachid follows them into the building and along the corridors. Ash doesn’t mind personally delivering Rachid to his next class because they’ve got Biology just around the corner. He gets itchy when they’re late to class and Stuart being the way Stuart is that happens more often than not. Thankfully all their teachers are used to it by now and just wave them in when Stuart knocks on the door.
“Prof Cox’s Physics classroom,” Stuart says, gesturing when they arrive. “We’ve got a free after Bio so we’ll see you at lunch, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Rachid nods. “Thanks.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Ash says, waving a hand.
“Don’t tell me I’ve got you two again this year,” Prof Cox says, coming up behind them. Ash wonders if he’s hearing things when half a dozen sighs float through the corridor, but when he looks over his shoulder he sees a few of the girls in their year staring openly at Prof Cox.
“Don’t worry, sir,” Stuart says. “Just making a delivery.”
“New student,” Ash says when Prof Cox’s eyes meet his. Prof Cox’s attention used to make him blush but he got over that around about the time he fell in love with his best mate.
“And he’s stuck with you two?” Prof Cox asks, shaking his head. “That’s unfortunate.”
“Hey,” Stuart says, raising his hands. “I’ll have you know I’m well thought of as a caretaker of new students.”
“To be fair to you both,” Prof Cox says, looking between them. “You’ve never dragged any of the students you’ve befriended down to your level.”
“Down?” Stuart asks, deliberate surprise on his face. “All of our friends have excellent grades. We are not the bad influences you like to think we are, sir.”
Ash has to hide his laughter again or Stuart will start laughing too. Prof Cox sighs.
“Have they told you about the bingo game yet?” he asks Rachid and this time Ash can’t stop the snort of laughter from escaping.
“Uh, no?” Rachid looks from Prof Cox to Stuart and back again.
“Small mercies, then,” Prof Cox says, waving Rachid into the classroom. “Aren’t you two meant to be in Dr Goldacre’s classroom about now?”
“It’s hardly millions of miles away, sir,” Stuart says and Ash’s laughter becomes open. Prof Cox sighs dramatically but there’s an edge of a smile about his lips as he follows Rachid into the classroom.
“Nice,” Ash says as they reverse their path down the corridor.
“Incredibly well placed, I thought,” Stuart says, laughing to himself. He exchanges a look with Ash and they’re both laughing a little too hard when they arrive at Dr Goldacre’s classroom.
“I suppose I could thank God, if I believed in It, that you’re only two minutes late to our first class,” Dr Goldacre says as they walk.
“Sorry, sir, we were just -” Stuart says and Dr Goldacre waves a hand.
“New student, I know, I’ve heard,” he says, pointing to their habitual table. “Just sit down and try not to bother me too much. It’s not fair that I have to put up with you two on the first day.”
The rest of the class (a small one, just fifteen students) laugh as Ash and Stuart sit down.
“Books,” Dr Goldacre says, moving up and down the aisles dropping heavy textbooks on the tables. “Read them at your leisure but at least attempt to have the first chapter read by the end of the week. This year we start with neurochemistry. Which should help us to theorise away Stuart’s more irritating habits.”
“I think this is bullying, sir,” Stuart protests half-heartedly. He’s always sparred with Dr Goldacre - it's one of the reasons Ash knows Stuart actually respects him.
“Take it up with your local MP,” Dr Goldacre says to another muffled bout of laughter. “Now - who wants to start us with the basics? Anyone but Stuart, please.”
Which is the other thing about Stuart and Bio. Stuart already knows all this stuff because he reads medical journals for fun. He’s even read Dr Goldacre’s papers, much to Dr Goldacre’s grudging appreciation.
Stuart nudges Ash’s leg with his knee as Fat Carl starts reciting a description of neurochemistry that he clearly memorised off Wikipedia. Ash looks across to see Stuart with their new textbook open, measuring a section of the table of contents with his hands. What he already knows.
Ash makes a suitably impressed sounding noise and the corners of Stuart’s lips twitch up into a brief smile. Ash fights the urge to sigh.
Summary: A Sirens High School AU.
Rating: R (for swearing only)
Pairing: Eventual Ashley/Stuart. (Implied Angie/Stuart in this part.)
Words & Warnings: ~3500 |
Disclaimer: Sirens is very much Not Mine.
Notes: In which Rachid is given a brief tour, Ash is momentarily jealous, Stuart is Stuart and we meet some more teachers.
Also @ AO3
They find Rachid hanging around the entrance of the Sixth Form common room at the beginning of break. It doesn’t surprise Ash that he’s on his own - the Classics lot are clique-ey as fuck and take a while to warm up to new students.
“The Tour?” Stuart asks as they approach, waving when Rachid spots them.
“The Tour,” Ash nods.
The Tour doesn’t really deserve the capital letter but has become a tradition. Ever since Stuart went out of his way to befriend Ash he’d become the go-to for ‘new student liaison’ despite being regularly described as a ‘cocky prick’ by most of his teachers. What baffles them most of all, though, is that Stuart seems to actually like doing it. This is because they don’t know about the Tour - which pretty much boils down to fifteen minutes in which Stuart corrupts the new student.
“Alright,” Rachid says as the join them, his mouth splitting into a relieved smile. Ash and Stuart nod in response, Stuart turning his head as if looking for someone. “Hey, you were right about Porteous, man, guy’s a total bore.”
“He’s not that bad once you get him going,” Ash says, trying to not look for whoever Stuart’s trying to spot too obviously. “Get him started on a tangent and you’ll see what I mean.”
“Let’s go then,” Stuart says, turning back to them and looking up at Rachid (it doesn’t always register that Stuart is shorter than Ash, he takes up so much space in Ash’s head). “You need the Tour.”
“The Tour?” Rachid asks, falling in beside Ash as Stuart heads down the stairs. “Like - where my classes are?”
“Oh, much more important things than that,” Stuart says dismissively. There’s too much intent about him for this to just be about the Tour. Ash desperately wants to know who Stuart’s looking for.
“I’d quite like to know where I’m going, but,” Rachid says, just loud enough for Ash to hear.
“Don’t worry,” Ash says, holding a hand out, “give us your timetable and I’ll point them out as we go.”
“Thanks,” Rachid passes a crumpled timetable over with a smile.
“The Tour starts here,” Stuart announces when they reach the main English corridor. He gestures to a plain brown door with English notices pinned up all over it.
“It’s a door,” Rachid says, turning his palms up and shrugging. “What do you -”
“Not just any door,” Ash says, pushing the door open to let a waft of fresh-smelling air drift out.
“Toilets,” Rachid states flatly, looking through the door. “Why -”
“Not just any toilets,” Stuart says, ducking under Ash’s arm (which shouldn’t make Ash’s heart spin in his chest). Ash nods Rachid through before him, leaning against the door when it falls shut.
“The only consistently clean toilets in the whole school,” Stuart continues, spreading his arms out to encompass the sparkling white room. “The English teachers complained for a year straight about the smell when we were in year 11. Because the school has a ‘reputation for excellence’ in Lit and Lang - they did something about it.”
“Only the English faculty and students know about them,” Ash says, folding his arms across his chest.
“So don’t tell anyone,” Stuart says, wearing a serious expression. Most people would’ve thought he was taking the piss - but Ash knows how deadly serious Stuart is about clean toilets.
“Good thing I’m an English student then, yeah?” Rachid asks, a smile splitting his face again.
“You think we would’ve shown you this if we didn’t already know?” Stuart asks, moving determinedly towards the door again. Ash steps aside and holds the door, executing a mock bow when Stuart looks at him as he goes past. The answering smile is a nice reward.
“Language is just down there,” Ash nods down the corridor as Stuart spins off in the opposite direction. “Looks like we’ve all got the same teacher.”
“Do you have all the same classes?” Rachid asks as Stuart leads them down another flight of stairs and turns sharply right.
“Not all,” Ash says, slightly defensive. “Three.”
“That’s -” Rachid starts but Stuart interrupts him before he has a chance to share his opinion.
“Because we have a plan, don’t we Ash?” Stuart falls back a little, his steps instantly syncing with Ash’s.
“Aye, we do,” Ash says, smiling. His right arm is brushing against Stuart’s left as they walk and it’s always like this on the first day back; feeling Stuart’s presence too keenly and feeling like something is fizzing just under his skin. He wishes he had the strength to pull away.
“What is it then?” Rachid asks when they walk on in silence.
“That’s for us to know and you to find out if we decide we like you enough,” Stuart says and Ash barely covers a laugh. It only encourages him. Stuart catches him and the fond smile, the one that makes Ash think he’d be content to stay like this forever, ripples across his features.
Ash likes to think of it as his smile because he’s never seen Stuart direct it at anyone else. Not even Maxine and Stuart’s been mates with her since first school.
“Stop two on the Tour,” Ash says, when they exit the seedy corridors that wrap around the PE department.
“It’s a courtyard,” Rachid says, looking about himself.
“And every Thursday lunchtime it’s where you come if you want to buy something, shall we say, not particularly legal,” Stuart says, kicking a booted foot against the cinderblock wall.
“What, drugs and stuff?” Rachid asks. Stuart shrugs.
“Pretty much anything you can think of, someone here’ll be able to get it,” Ash says. Rachid’s eyes go calculating.
“Porn?” he asks and Stuart laughs, bright and loud, doubling over slightly.
“Oh, my friend,” he says, clapping Rachid on the shoulder. “All the porn you could imagine.
“Don’t know,” Rachid says. “I can imagine a lot of porn.”
“More than that,” Ash says, meeting Stuart’s eyes and letting the corners of his mouth twitch up.
“That’s a lot of porn,” Rachid says, blinking. Stuart laughs again and moves back over to the door. This time he motions for Ash to go first and Ash impresses himself by not making a joke about Stuart wanting to check out his arse.
Then he worries that he should have, because he’s been making that joke nearly every time Stuart opens a door for him since they met, and Stuart might think he’s being weird if he doesn’t make it and -
“It’s alright if you find yourself looking at Ash’s arse, by the way,” Stuart says from behind him and Ash whirls about to find Rachid’s eyes going desperately wide. Stuart’s eyes are on Ash’s as he continues: “Pretty much everyone has at one time or another. It’s like it’s magnetic. Or hypnotic.”
“Stuart -” Ash says, low and warning. Something flickers across Stuart’s eyes before his mouth widens into the particular shit-eating grin that always makes Ash want to slap him.
“I weren’t, honest -” Rachid says, waving his arms about. Stuart scoffs.
“You were,” he says, still looking at Ash and, oh God, he thinks he’s helping, doesn’t he? Ash would kill Stuart if he didn’t know that would just end in Ash dying alone, surrounded by cats. “It’s alright, seriously, he’ll take it as a compliment.”
“You’re a prick, Stuart Bayldon,” Ash says and there’s enough venom in his voice to make Stuart understand he means it. Remorse crosses his face and that’s - that’s a new thing. It wrong-foots Ash spectacularly.
“Are you trying to say he’s gay?” Rachid asks, looking between them with bewilderment etched large on his face. “’Cos I didn’t think it were cool to out people.”
“It’s alright, Rachid,” Ash says, dragging his eyes away from Stuart’s at last. “I’m pretty openly out. No harm done. Well - unless you’re a bigot.”
“Are you a bigot, Rachid?” Stuart asks and there’s a depth of meaning to his tone - a tone that suggests he will break Rachid if he says the wrong thing right now. Ash’s heart skips a beat in his chest, like it always does.
“Um,” Rachid looks down at himself and raises his eyebrows. “Kinda hard to be when you look like this and, you know, eat halal.”
There’s a moment of silence while they take in the meaning of that statement and something about Stuart softens, only enough that Ash would notice, and the tension eases out of the air. As much as Ash appreciates Stuart’s weird brand of protectiveness he always prefers it when he doesn’t wield it like a weapon.
“Welcome to the edge of society,” Stuart says, turning away. “Come on, we’ll show you where you can smoke the stuff you buy from the dealers.”
Which is around the back of the canteen where the constant humming from the exhaust fan, plus the steam that pours out of it, covers up the hacking coughs of the kids who’ve been smoking twenty a day since they were ten.
Ash’s phone buzzes in his pocket when they’re half way across the school. Stuart’s name is on the display when he pulls it out and he looks up at Stuart’s back, two steps ahead of him. Stuart figured out how to text without looking within a few days of getting his first phone.
sorry, that was dick behaviour
yeah, it was Ash sends back, shaking his head. Stuart never apologies in front of other people. Thinks it weakens his reputation as the biggest prick in the school. Ash has never figured out why Stuart’s so obsessed with it.
make it up to you?
oh yeah? how?
got a copy of that gay surfer movie you were looking for. we could watch it after school?
Ash actually stops walking in surprise. Stuart has - he’s never given two shits about Ash’s sexuality (if he did he might have noticed the way Ash stares at him with hearts in his eyes all the time) but he’s never gone out of his way to have anything to do with it (beyond mocking Ash’s taste in men constantly) and he’s certainly never offered to watch anything with him.
(“They’re always so fucking depressing,” Stuart had said when he complained about Maxine forcing him to watch Brokeback Mountain once. That was before Ash and Stuart had met. “I get enough of that just existing. You let me know when you hear about a gay film that has a happy ending, mate, and I’ll watch the fuck out of it with you.”)
Ash had never thought Stuart would actually make good on his promise. Something hot and huge flares in his chest and he tries desperately to smother it. Hope has done enough damage to him before when it comes to Stuart, he can’t let it happen again.
“Oi, are you coming you ginger twat?” Stuart calls, now far enough ahead, with Rachid at his side, for Ash to have to jog to catch up.
Well. There goes that hot feeling. (No, that’s an absolute lie, because the problem with being in love is that you love someone because of their flaws not in spite of them and Stuart couldn’t be more flawed if he tried.)
“Fuck you, Stuart,” Ash says, under his breath, as he jogs to catch up.
“Stop number three,” Stuart says when Ash catches up, leading them around the corner and up the narrow gap that spits them out into the smoking zone. “Smoker’s corner. Ash will try to tell you he only smokes when he’s drinking. That is a lie.”
“Ha fucking ha,” Ash says, rolling his eyes and resisting the desperate urge to light up now that they’re here. He nods at Mr Fry, the Lit teacher he and Stuart had shared at GCSE (and Stuart still has), while he pulls his phone out to reply.
yeah, why not. i’ve got nothing else on Ash looks up to see if Stuart’s got his reply and his heart sinks a little. Stuart’s talking to Angie, who he’d befriended at the last party of the summer holidays, and Ash really doesn’t want to think about it. Angie’s nice and all, a bit obsessed with the environment, but she’s not right for Stuart. Ash just knows it.
“Ah, Mr Greenwick,” Mr Fry says, stubbing his cigarette out on the wall. “I take it this is the new student?”
“Rachid,” Rachid says, staring up at all 6’4 of the giant English teacher. Mr Fry is stately and impressive and Ash had always enjoyed his class, the man’s love for the written word was infectious. He’s Stuart’s favourite teacher after Dr Goldacre.
“I believe you’ll be joining Mr Greenwick and Mr Bayldon in my colleague’s English Language class,” Mr Fry says, spreading his hands expansively. “I believe you’ll find it rather extraordinary. Mr Ince is perhaps the angriest man I’ve ever met.”
“Um, sure,” Rachid says uncertainly. Ash hides his smile behind his hand.
“Keep this to yourself, Greenwick,” Mr Fry turns his eyes on Ash. He spent the first ten years of his teaching career at one of the ridiculous public schools down South and has never shaken some the habits he picked up. “Mr Laurie tells me he wants the Year 13s to reinterpret Midsummer’s this year.”
“Really?” Ash asks, forgetting for a moment anything other than the prospect of performing in one of his favourite plays.
“M’Coll generally doesn’t lie to me,” Mr Fry says, smiling. There’s a shade to it that Ash recognises, sees on himself in reflective surfaces that catch him smiling at Stuart, and for a moment his heart squeezes for Mr Fry. “I think you’d make an excellent Puck. What do you say, Bayldon?”
Stuart has appeared at Ash’s side, apparently done with his approach to Angie, and Ash looks across to find Stuart staring at him. Stuart ruffles his hair into curled spikes and Ash tries to duck away, embarrassed by Stuart doing this in front of other people. Stuart flashes a smile.
“There’s definitely something Puckish about him, sir,” Stuart says, nodding to Mr Fry.
“Well, best be off,” Mr Fry says, clapping his hands together. “If no-one tells on me, I’ll tell on no-one. See you this afternoon, Bayldon.”
The rest of the smokers wave to him as slides through the narrow gap, pulling his generous stomach in even as it strains against his waistcoat, and Stuart follows him, Ash and Rachid trailing behind him.
“Last stop on the Tour up next,” Stuart says, walking backwards for a moment when they extricate themselves from the alley. “Possibly the most important.”
“Yeah?” Rachid raises his eyebrows. “More important than toilets, you mean?”
“Sarcasm? Already?” Stuart asks, exchanging a smile with Ash. “Kids grow up so fast these days.”
Rachid laughs at this and Stuart looks pleasantly surprised. He falls back into step with Ash as Ash’s phone buzzes in his pocket. Ash checks it while Stuart explains to Rachid why he’s taking both Lit and Lang (Ash’s heard it so many times before he thinks he could repeat Stuart’s reasons verbatim).
cool. might as well go straight from school. this better have the happy ending you promised me (Later, when Ash examines every detail of the day, he will swear that his heart stopped at this. He'll be embarrassed for himself.)
“So,” Ash says, before that warm hope can roll up on him again. “Angie?”
“Yeah, maybe,” Stuart says, shrugging. “She seems interested.”
“Good,” Ash says, swallowing down his usual irrational reaction to any girl Stuart fancies. “That’s good.”
“You alright?” Stuart asks, tilting his head and raising an eyebrow. Ash shakes himself and forces as natural a smile as he can.
“Just had a horrible image of you with Angie,” he says, shuddering. “Not a pretty thought.”
Stuart pulls a face and Ash laughs, ducking his head. Now he does have that image in his mind. As usual, though, it’s focused entirely on what he half-fantasises Stuart might look like. It’s a more enjoyable thought that he ever intends to let on.
They curve around the school to the science building, rather newer than the rest of the school with solar panels on the roof and everything, and over to the crumbling piece of wall that’s all that’s left of the previous science building.
“This is where you come at lunchtime,” Stuart says. “Think you can remember the route?”
“It’s not exactly rocket surgery,” Rachid says, rolling his eyes at Stuart.
The bell for the end of break rings before Stuart can respond.
“Come on then, Mr Surgeon,” Stuart says, slapping Rachid on the arm. “We better get you to your next class.”
“Physics,” Ash offers when Stuart looks a question at him. “Prof Cox.”
“Oh, fun,” Stuart says, eyes sparking with interest. “It’s been a while since we said hello.”
Rachid follows them into the building and along the corridors. Ash doesn’t mind personally delivering Rachid to his next class because they’ve got Biology just around the corner. He gets itchy when they’re late to class and Stuart being the way Stuart is that happens more often than not. Thankfully all their teachers are used to it by now and just wave them in when Stuart knocks on the door.
“Prof Cox’s Physics classroom,” Stuart says, gesturing when they arrive. “We’ve got a free after Bio so we’ll see you at lunch, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Rachid nods. “Thanks.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Ash says, waving a hand.
“Don’t tell me I’ve got you two again this year,” Prof Cox says, coming up behind them. Ash wonders if he’s hearing things when half a dozen sighs float through the corridor, but when he looks over his shoulder he sees a few of the girls in their year staring openly at Prof Cox.
“Don’t worry, sir,” Stuart says. “Just making a delivery.”
“New student,” Ash says when Prof Cox’s eyes meet his. Prof Cox’s attention used to make him blush but he got over that around about the time he fell in love with his best mate.
“And he’s stuck with you two?” Prof Cox asks, shaking his head. “That’s unfortunate.”
“Hey,” Stuart says, raising his hands. “I’ll have you know I’m well thought of as a caretaker of new students.”
“To be fair to you both,” Prof Cox says, looking between them. “You’ve never dragged any of the students you’ve befriended down to your level.”
“Down?” Stuart asks, deliberate surprise on his face. “All of our friends have excellent grades. We are not the bad influences you like to think we are, sir.”
Ash has to hide his laughter again or Stuart will start laughing too. Prof Cox sighs.
“Have they told you about the bingo game yet?” he asks Rachid and this time Ash can’t stop the snort of laughter from escaping.
“Uh, no?” Rachid looks from Prof Cox to Stuart and back again.
“Small mercies, then,” Prof Cox says, waving Rachid into the classroom. “Aren’t you two meant to be in Dr Goldacre’s classroom about now?”
“It’s hardly millions of miles away, sir,” Stuart says and Ash’s laughter becomes open. Prof Cox sighs dramatically but there’s an edge of a smile about his lips as he follows Rachid into the classroom.
“Nice,” Ash says as they reverse their path down the corridor.
“Incredibly well placed, I thought,” Stuart says, laughing to himself. He exchanges a look with Ash and they’re both laughing a little too hard when they arrive at Dr Goldacre’s classroom.
“I suppose I could thank God, if I believed in It, that you’re only two minutes late to our first class,” Dr Goldacre says as they walk.
“Sorry, sir, we were just -” Stuart says and Dr Goldacre waves a hand.
“New student, I know, I’ve heard,” he says, pointing to their habitual table. “Just sit down and try not to bother me too much. It’s not fair that I have to put up with you two on the first day.”
The rest of the class (a small one, just fifteen students) laugh as Ash and Stuart sit down.
“Books,” Dr Goldacre says, moving up and down the aisles dropping heavy textbooks on the tables. “Read them at your leisure but at least attempt to have the first chapter read by the end of the week. This year we start with neurochemistry. Which should help us to theorise away Stuart’s more irritating habits.”
“I think this is bullying, sir,” Stuart protests half-heartedly. He’s always sparred with Dr Goldacre - it's one of the reasons Ash knows Stuart actually respects him.
“Take it up with your local MP,” Dr Goldacre says to another muffled bout of laughter. “Now - who wants to start us with the basics? Anyone but Stuart, please.”
Which is the other thing about Stuart and Bio. Stuart already knows all this stuff because he reads medical journals for fun. He’s even read Dr Goldacre’s papers, much to Dr Goldacre’s grudging appreciation.
Stuart nudges Ash’s leg with his knee as Fat Carl starts reciting a description of neurochemistry that he clearly memorised off Wikipedia. Ash looks across to see Stuart with their new textbook open, measuring a section of the table of contents with his hands. What he already knows.
Ash makes a suitably impressed sounding noise and the corners of Stuart’s lips twitch up into a brief smile. Ash fights the urge to sigh.